


the slime test

by nightmarefuckboy



Series: miya and his puppies [3]
Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Don't Like Don't Read, M/M, Masturbation, Moaning, Reki POV, Slutty Miya, cam sex, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 22:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefuckboy/pseuds/nightmarefuckboy
Summary: it's simple; the longer you watch, the slimier you are.
Relationships: Chinen Miya/Hasegawa Langa, Chinen Miya/Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Chinen Miya/Kyan Reki
Series: miya and his puppies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179188
Comments: 22
Kudos: 59





	the slime test

**Author's Note:**

> [required listening](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_o2nzVZ7kk)

The video pops up in Reki’s phone notifications after dinner and a text from Langa quickly follows.

_Langa:_ Did Miya send you a video too?

_Me:_ yea… meet up in 5?

_Langa:_ Sure.

Miya must be bored. He always sends weird videos of himself when he’s bored. Weird being totally inappropriate, tip-toeing on the edge of being illegal. In the last video they received, Miya spent eight minutes prattling on about the history of the Casper slide while _sucking_ down a large, very phallic looking ice pop. And at the very end, Reki and Langa watched in absolute awe as Miya opened his mouth wide and practically deep throated the treat. Reki will forever be haunted by the image of the ice pop sliding past Miya’s lips and tongue, staining them a sticky purple from its juices.

“Guess my popsicle is all done. Maybe next time I’ll do something that’ll make the video longer,” Miya said, looking straight into the camera with a knowing glare in his eyes.

As Reki skates over to his and Langa’s meet up spot beneath the highway, his cell phone burns a hole in his pocket. Whatever Miya sent them, it’s gonna be longer and potentially more scandalous. By the time he arrives, Langa is already sitting on the curb, bouncing his knee agitatedly with his phone in his hand.

“Did you screen it?” Reki calls out, hopping off his board and sprinting the rest of the way to meet Langa.

Langa shakes his head no. “I wanted to wait for you…” Reki can feel the rest of the sentence in Langa’s furrowed brow.

_Just in case the video is too much._

“I get that. I wouldn’t want to watch it alone either,” Reki says, patting Langa on the back as he takes a seat next to him. “Knowing Miya, this video could get us into some real trouble.”

“Right, so we’re deleting them after we watch. Just like the others?”

Reki swallows. “Y-yeah, we’ll do that.” Truth be told, Reki hasn’t deleted any of the videos Miya’s sent him. They’re tucked away, safe in a passcode protected folder on his phone. He’s been saving them as proof…. _Just in case._

“Okay, are we gonna watch on your phone or mine?” Langa asks.

“We can watch on yours, you’ve already got it out,” Reki says, resting his head on Langa’s shoulder so he can get a good view of the tiny screen.

“Alright.” Langa unlocks his phone and opens Miya’s text. Below the video, there’s a short message.

_Wear headphones._

“Shit.” Reki curses under his breath. Those are not the words he was expecting to make his stomach drop into his ass, but stranger things have happened. Already sweating through his sweatshirt because of a suggestive text message doesn't count as one of them.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got airpods.” Langa pulls out a white case out of his pocket and opens it, offering Reki one of the ear buds.

“Thanks.” Reki takes the right one and sticks it in his ear, hating how hot his cheeks feel right now. Then again, despite Langa’s calm demeanor, his friend’s cheeks are also showing early signs of a violent blush.

Langa puts in the other airpod and hovers his thumb over the play button. “Alright… Are you ready?”

Reki bites his lip, looking at his friend for any signs of hesitation. Of course when Langa should be terrified of the consequences, his hunger for danger only grows. First racing with Adam, now Miya’s mind games. Reki wishes he could be half as brave as Langa, because this shit right here—amateur softcore porn made by the world’s brattiest fourteen-year-old who can and would so easily ruin their lives for fun—is terrifying. But then again, what’s the use of fighting it? He’s already six videos in too deep. What irreparable psychic damage to his psyche is one more video going to do?

“Yeah, I guess I’m ready.”

“Okay, I’m going to press play,” Langa says and does.

The video starts out with a black screen—three seconds of anticipation that Reki can feel in his labored heartbeat. Then the darkness fades into Miya laying on his bed, bathed in soft pink and blue with a spotlight illuminating his form like he’s some god damn divine being in a Renaissance painting.

More like demon sent from hell to torture Reki and Langa.

In addition to Miya’s pink heart choker (you know, the one all those e-girls on tiktok wear), he’s wearing a worn dope sketch t-shirt that looks suspiciously like his shirt that went missing. Reki tore apart his backpack and the Dope Sketch workshop two days ago looking for that thing. To top it all off, Miya’s bare legs are precariously crossed, drawing attention to how the bottom hem of the oversized t-shirt only reaches mid-thigh.

“Why hello boys,” Miya coos, staring directly into the camera. His irises have never looked so green or hypnotic. Reki can just barely make out the illuminated hearts from Miya’s ring light reflected in the teen’s pitch black pupils. It’s an extra layer of danger that Reki can feel in his toes.

“I hope you followed the instructions that I sent with this video. If you didn’t, you better be ready to explain yourselves to whoever overhears,” Miya smirks with narrowed eyes, correctly assuming that Reki and Langa are watching the latest installment of his torture series together.

Langa’s breath hitches—moving Reki’s chin with his shoulders on the sharp inhale.

“But I know you’re smarter than that,” Miya continues, “you’d never run the risk of getting caught with one of _my_ videos. I know my puppies don’t like sharing.” There’s a beat, then Miya starts giggling in a way that is unmistakably meant to be demeaning. Reki feels the sting so clearly—a narrow pinpoint that shoots straight through his heart and makes him sweat even more—because it’s absolutely true. He isn’t sure if he’d even share the videos with Langa if he didn’t already know Langa also received them. But Miya doesn’t _have_ to say it.

When Miya finally calms down, he wipes a tear from his eye and sighs. “Enough of that, though. I didn’t make this video just to roast you—I can do that any old time. You see, I want to do something special with you two. I want to play a game. It’s called ‘The Slime Test.’”

Reki does not like the sound of that.

“The longer you watch, the slimier you are. If you stop watching now, you’re not a slime at all. But if you make it to the end of the video, which we all know you will, you are a true bonafide slime. Are you ready to find out how much of a slime you are?” Miya pauses, like he’s giving Reki and Langa one final chance to bail. As if either of them are actually going to stop now?

Miya’s smile deepens evilly and he uncrosses his legs, revealing the purple thong that sits low on his abdomen and just barely conceals his excitement. Without any pretense, tugs his shirt all the way up to his chest, revealing only the bottoms of his nipples. The need to feel those delicate nubs rolling against his tongue overcomes Reki. He bets Miya lotions them, they look so soft and pink. Like cotton candy or a strawberry soufflé—tooth achingly sweet and borderline addictive.

“You like? They say ‘Angel Pussy’ on the front. I got them extra special for my puppies.” Miya points at the barely legible pink text on the front of the garment and shakes his hips enticingly. Reki’s mouth immediately starts to salivate so much, he has to swallow down the spit along with his pride. He wonders what Langa’s thinking right now? Probably a calmer variation of his ‘ _holy fuck, holy shit, mother of fucking God!_ ’ spiraling thoughts. Langa’s breathing still is steady, so maybe this kind of stuff doesn’t phase him? Reki honestly can’t relate, as he is currently on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Watching Miya gasp demurely while palming himself hits Reki like a sledgehammer to glass.

His composure—shattered. His heart—racing. His dick—filling out faster than it ever has before.

“Damn… I can’t believe you’re still watching, you slime. You must’ve been waiting for a video like this, huh? Tch, you’re both disgusting perverts. I bet you were itching for a video of me doing this—so you could add it to your secret collection,” Miya says in between high pitched gasps. He’s really working himself now, stroking the entire length of his clothed dick and bucking his hips in time. A dark spot forms where tip strains against the fabric, a natural focal point that Reki immediately zones in on. That and the fact that Miya’s balls are practically falling out from the left as he touches himself—it’s really hard to look anywhere else.

Another hitched breath from Langa. Reki’s heart begins to rattle in his chest like a caged bird. Does that mean he also keeps the videos? Has Langa been lying to him? Are they both just a pair of disgusting, perverted slimes like Miya said.

“You can watch this one when you’re feeling extra lonely, kay?” Miya winks and then gives his dick a nice, tight squeeze. He moans—filthy and drawn out—as he arches his back up off his mattress with his leering cat-eyes screwed shut. It’s actually criminal how hot it looks. No fourteen-year-old should have this much sex appeal. Yet here we have Miya Chinen—national team hopeful and grade A jailbait. People say Adam is a deviant? They’ve clearly never been on the receiving end of Miya’s lusty ire.

Miya chuckles, running a hand through his hair to push his bangs out of his face. “You like that, slimes?” he says directly into the camera again—cheeks flushed, teeth bared, and stare positively ravenous. “You want me to make more noises for you?” He brings his free hand beneath the shirt to his torso and starts to touch himself there too, uttering preview whimpers for his poor puppies.

“Yes,” Reki and Langa both say to the video. They stare at each other for a moment in disbelief, both slowly coming to the realization together that fuck… They’re both so messed up for Miya…. But before they can commiserate over how insane this whole situation is, the moaning starts.

Reki’s watched his fair share of porn. He’s seventeen, having a shady internet search history kind of goes with the territory. The thing is, Miya was not joking around when he said they’d need headphones to listen to this video and Reki isn’t sure if he’s ever heard anything so…

_Lewd._

Miya pulls his cock out from behind the flimsy thong’s fabric and ruts it into his fist. The sounds of Miya’s desperate moans and amorous chirping—like a kitten when it’s overcome by its natural, hunter instincts—go straight to Reki’s dick. Every last drop of blood is flushed out of his head and funneled there, making his pants really freaking uncomfortable. And that’s on top of the wildfire raging beneath his skin that makes everything so fucking hot.

“Oh…” Langa gasps. A hand flies to cover his mouth as he peers down at his lap. Reki’s eyes follow and widen—the tent in Langa’s shorts is nothing short of impressive.

“We should’ve met at the shop…” Langa mumbles with his mouth still covered. Reki mentally kicks himself and wipes the sweat from his brow with his already drenched headband. Why _didn’t_ they meet at Dope Sketch? Reki has a spare key, they could’ve snuck inside no problem. There’s no camera security to catch them in the act, just an alarm that Reki knows the passcode that disables it. They could've been sitting on the workshop’s couch, sinking into big pillows as they jerk each other off while watching Miya’s video.

“I don’t know…” Reki groans. Hindsight is 20/20.

“Ar-are you touching yourselves? If you are…. You’re getting sli-ah!-imier by the second!” Miya brings their attention back to the video with his teasing. “But I’ll give you one more chance…” Miya trails his slick hand up his stomach, leaving a trail of precum in its wake, up to his lips. Miya stares them down as he sucks down each of his digits. His long, black eyelashes occasionally flutter against rosy cheeks as he hums in content, like he’s tasting something truly delicious. Reki suddenly gets jealous, he wants to taste Miya’s precum too. He also wishes that could touch himself right now. He’d give just about anything to feel some relief from the tension coiling in his abdomen.

Miya drags his middle finger out of his mouth with a ‘pop!’ and sighs, visibly shivering.

“Fuck,” Langa curses—Langa _never_ curses.

“I bet you’re expecting me to start fingering myself? Close my eyes and imagine you’re prepping me to get railed into next week?”

Reki can’t help but nod.

“You can stop the video now and save yourself from being a true slime, but you’ll never find out.”

Nine minutes and forty-three seconds are left on the timestamp.

“Well you know what they say, curiosity killed the slimes.” Miya’s laughter is borderline maniacal. So smug and overconfident that the flopping in Reki’s stomach increases two fold. Miya Chinen truly an unmitigated, evil little sex demon that must be feared. This is all tiktok’s fault, showing impressionable young boys how to be slutty beyond all reason.

Miya pulls a comically large plush-pillow in the shape of a cutesy Lion. “You remember my Squishmallow? He’s more than just one of my favorite stuffies. Sometimes I like to play pretend with him. Do you wanna watch how we play?” he asks as he affectionately strokes down the toy’s rainbow mane to its underside—revealing a tiny, vertical slit in the fabric that definitely isn’t supposed to be there.

Reki knows exactly where this is going and he just might pass out from lack of blood in his brain.

Langa pauses the video.

“What did you do that for!?” Reki seethes and quickly lunges for Langa’s phone. But Langa is too quick, he’s already on his feet kicking his board into his hand while Reki peels himself off of the asphalt.

“We need to go somewhere private.”

“And skate around looking like we’ve got Pinocchio in our pants!?”

“I do not want to touch myself in public, Reki,” Langa says with a crazed look in his eye. The same one he got during that beef against Adam. He clearly won’t take any plea Reki makes to just stay put into consideration.

“The shop is three kilometers away. Two and a half if we book it.” Reki reaches into his pants and adjusts his scalding hot dick against his stomach, held up by the waistband of his boxers and pants.

Langa copies him and nods. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> part two this weekend?


End file.
